“Sit down,” Rajin called, his voice low, barely above a whisper. However, even though the Bearded Dragon had tried to settle the Mad Dog, the old crippled Iyrman continued to snarl, axe in hand.

Adam whispered into Kirot’s ear, who slid off her father’s leg, before rushing towards her greatfather, her silver hair billowing in the warm dawnval evening.

Jarot glanced down at his greatdaughter, who held out her small hand. He held out the handle towards the girl. “Do you see? My greatdaughter will fight for me!” The old man roared with laughter, grinning wide like a beast, though his eyes remained focused upon the short Iyrman.

‘He has regrown his claws,’ Baztam thought, remembering the Jarot who had returned with one leg, and before that, a single arm. Now? Now he was more like the younger Jarot who used to cause such large headaches for the previous Great Elders, the Jarot who had caused so many nightmares for Aldland.

“Babo, it is time to go back,” Kirot said, blinking innocently at her greatfather. “Virot is sleepy.”

Jarot groaned quietly, but upon seeing Kirot’s pout, he sheathed his axe, allowing the girl to take his hand. Her small hand wrapped around three of his fingers, and her silver tail swayed side to side in joy. The old man glared at Baztam for a moment longer, before letting out a soft sigh. “I will stay in the shared estate with my greatchildren.”

Virot yawned, resting her head against her mother’s shoulder, the girl’s eyes slowly beginning to narrow as slumber lulled her ever closer, Damrot also doing the same against his mother’s shoulder. Little Xarot remained fast asleep in his basket, Sonarot carrying her grandson back home, while Jurot carried his youngest daughter. The last of the youngest children, Larot, remained within the older Jarot’s arm, the old man holding the boy close, while his triplets led him back to the shared estate. The older Iyrman held his greatson close, while the hornless red skinned Iyrman rested his head against the old man’s chest, feeling the way it shifted with each breath, feeling his heartbeat through even the layers of clothing, though it was low and gentle.

Even as Adam fought off his children to try and take a bath with Vonda alone, Jarot clutched Larot close to him, not allowing anyone to steal the boy from him.

“Babo! How can daddy do this?” Jirot huffed, pouting up at the old man. “Daddy take mummy for bath!”

“He wishes to give a gift?” Jarot asked.

“Yes! Why did daddy not give it here?”

“Your father is too shy.”

“Shy?” Jirot asked.

“Yes. You must be happy, because he loves your mother so much.”

“How he can love mummy so much when I love mummy so much?”

“It is because is so troublesome.”

“So trouble,” the girl agreed, walking away with her hands tied behind her back, letting out a soft sigh. “So troublesome. What am I to do?”

Meanwhile, Adam had placed the circlet upon his wife’s head, thin, silver, with a small blue gem set within the centre. “There! A circlet for my queen.”

“This kind of circlet, lighter, is fit for a baroness.”

“Hey, if I say it’s for a queen, it’s for a queen, and if I need to change the laws in Aldland to make it so, I’ll do it, one way or another,” Adam joked, wrapping his arms around his wife, pulling her close.

“I feel something from the circlet,” Vonda said. “Is it magical?”

“It is.”

“What does it do?”

“It uh…” Adam thought about how to explain it. “Oh. It increases your Defence by 1, and your Attributes, by 1 too.”

“My…” Vonda furrowed her brows, before tilting her head. “Is it similar to in Warriors and Wanderers?”

“Exactly. It’s exactly like Warriors and Wanderers. It only helps if they’re odd numbers, otherwise it doesn’t do much.”

Vonda’s lips formed a wider smile, realising it was a very Adam gift for him to give. “I also have a gift for you.”

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Adam held the small blade within his hand, unsure of Vonda was messing with him. It was white, the symbol of Life’s Rose etched against the smooth white handle of the dagger, which was just long enough for Adam to hold it within a single hand, while the blade was two finger lengths, made of silver steel. There was also the unmistakeable electricity of magic within it. “A magical dagger?”

“I enchanted it.”

“You can enchant?” Adam asked, blinking wildly, having just learnt his wife could enchant. He noted the look within Vonda’s eyes, his mind racing back. He flushed red. “Oh. Right. Yeah.”

Vonda smiled wider as Adam recalled that it was he who had Awoken her ability to enchant. “It is Greater Enhanced. With this dagger, when you smite your foes, you will heal.”

Adam’s brows raised in alarm. “Whoa! Vonda! Have you told the Iyr?”

“Yes,” Vonda replied, smiling warmly.

“They let you make this even after they knew?”

“Yes. Is it so powerful?”

“I mean, yeah.” Adam stared down at the dagger, eyeing up the dagger, feeling the soft, needle thin engraving of the rose of Life’s Rose, the sun peeking out behind it. “Smites already do so much, and now…” He brushed his thumb along the engraving.

Vonda brushed along Adam’s shoulder gently. “Do you like it?”

“I didn’t expect a dagger,” Adam teased, smirking at his wife, before planting a firm kiss on her lips. “I love it. Thank you. I’m going to keep it on me at all times, unless, obviously, I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Vonda tilted her head slightly, feigning a pout, only for Adam to kiss it away, before the pair finally bathed.

Adam waved his hand, casting his magic to change the temperature until it was perfect.

Trick: Tricks

He motioned with his hand, muttering the words, before he held his wife, the pair relaxing within the warm water. “I don’t think I can tell you what I got up to in the last month, but… it felt like a longer time than it actually was.”

“It’s okay now.”

“I think you’d be surprised at how many nobles I could have killed, but didn’t.”

“How many?”

“At least two, maybe three, different families of nobles.” Adam pressed his cheek against hers, feeling the warmth of her body against his. He gently swayed from side to side, his thumb brushing along her stomach. Even now, the darkness seeped within him. “I uh… had to kill a few people though. They… attacked us from behind while we were dealing with a fairly powerful foe.”

“It’s okay, Adam.”

“I tried really hard.”

“I know.” Vonda reached up to his cheek, brushing along it gently, her fingers holding no judgement.

The pair returned back to the families readying to head in for the night. Adam tilted his head towards a particular Iyrman. Tall, handsome, bronze skinned, with a large greatsword upon his back. “What are you doing here?”

“Have you made it a habit to return early?” Amokan joked, shaking the half elf’s forearm. “I am here because I am here.”

“I just… didn’t expect you here.”

Amokan smiled. “I have remained for it is a better story to remain.”

“If you say so. Did you give my children their gifts?”

“I gifted them before I had to leave for work,” Amokan assured. “I gifted them wyvern scales.”

“You fought a wyvern?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Amokan said, smiling wide, realising what Jurot meant when he said that his brother often forgot simple and important things.

“It’s been a while.”

“Only a few weeks,” Amokan said, his eyes darting to meet Jurot’s, before he winked at the half elf. “I will speak the tale tomorrow to the children and you can listen to it.”

“Sure,” Adam replied, flashing a smile back. “Now that I think about it, Jurot, I didn’t give you a gift today, did I?”

“No.”

“Want to trade axes?” Adam asked.

“Okay.”

“…”

“…”

“I like Lightaxe more.”

“Okay.” They traded their axes back, Jurot also preferring his own axe.

‘I should figure something out…’

As the evening passed, the families began to turn in for the night.

“Daddy! You must sleep with me!” Jirot said, pointing at her father, the girl standing tall and defiant.

“Shouldn’t I sleep with mummy, or at least your elder siblings?”

“I missed you so much!” The girl frowned, bowing her head slightly, her lips quivering.

“Ah! Then I’ll sleep with you tonight, okay?”

“Okay!” Jirot smiled wide, revealing her pearly white teeth, and her four pairs of canines in the brightest of smiles. Little Jarot also smiled so brightly, the pair disarming their father with their joy, and the half elf hoisted them both up, smothering them with his kisses.

“I will remain,” the older Jarot said, holding Larot still, who could feel sleep call to him.

“Alright…” Adam noted just how tired the old man looked, before looking down at his children, who clutched their father’s shirt and sucked their thumb. He leaned down to kiss their foreheads, carrying them to the cabins outside of the shared estates, followed by the children’s nanos.

In the middle of the night, the children cried and screamed several times, but quickly quietened down within their father’s arms. The half elf tensed up several times, doing his best not to allow the torrent of emotions overwhelm him.

The heat of rage.

The chill of grief.

Jarot stared up at the ceiling above within his room, having chosen a nearby cabin. He was barely close enough to hear the screaming in the night. He could feel Larot awaken each time too, though the boy did not complain, quickly returning back to sleep. The old man brushed along the boy’s hair tenderly, noting how the boy did not stir upon his touch. As the boy awoke for the third time, Jarot planting a kiss upon the top of his head.

“It does not matter who you were,” Jarot whispered. “You are my greatson now. If you wish to cry, you may cry.”

‘A Deathsinger asking me to cry?’ Larot thought. ‘Now I’ve heard it all!’

“Churot was also as quiet as you…”

Larot could hear the pain in Jarot’s voice, the rage which continued to seep through him. The boy rolled onto his front, before reaching up to the old man’s head, rubbing it gently.

“…”

Larot could see it through the darkness with his sight, the smile upon the old man’s face.

“My greatson is so well behaved,” Jarot whispered, wrapping his single arm around the boy’s back gently.